


No Rewards

by Sigmund



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Minor Hurt, Sorry La Rochelle, Spoilers Season 2, speculation on season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigmund/pseuds/Sigmund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this meme fill: d'Artagnan undermined the attempted execution and blatantly refused a royal command. Louis can't allow that to continue. So d'Artagnan finds himself being given all the difficult, dangerous jobs, and Louis forbids the others from helping him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TinkerBella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerBella/gifts).



> WARNING: Spoilers for season 2 and speculation
> 
> I liked this idea even though it followed a theme on another story I wrote, but I got carried away with season 2 spoilers and my own speculation on where season 2 is heading. I hope it made it interesting. I also want to apologize for the historical inaccuracies of using La Rochelle and the Huguenots. It was all over by 1628 with an unconditional surrender. 
> 
> Thank you to those who kudo my other stories! Gifted to Tinkerbella who said it was ready to post.
> 
> I did edit so all mistakes are my own.

Early morning muster was merely a formality as the active garrison's musketeers. Musketeers were either away on missions or recovering from night patrol, however, if available then it was a musketeer's duty to attend the call.

Athos, Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan found themselves milling about the other men as they had finished a mission in delivering a missive, and were assigned to guard the King later in the day.

The official roll was called and duties assigned for the day plus who would be providing relief to the other musketeers. "d'Artagnan, report to my office," Treville announced as he dismissed the soldiers.

d'Artagnan glanced at his friends, moving to head up the stairs. Aramis, Athos and Porthos followed behind.

"Enter."

The young man opened the door after knocking and receiving notice that he was welcomed.

Treville frowned at the entourage. "I asked for d'Artagnan only."

"We thought that we were a silent request, like the N in-"

d'Artagnan cut off Aramis as he was about to annoy their leader. "Captain, is it a private matter?" Last time he had a private moment with Treville, he had been informed that his farm had been burned by LeBarge. There was nothing left for him to lose.

"Seems as though the King wants you to gain experience in the field." Treville handed the papers to d'Artagnan.

Athos tilted his head. "What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm to go to LaRochelle." d'Artagnan sagged as he handed the orders to Aramis who confirmed the papers.

Porthos skimmed the orders before placing them in Athos's hands. "La Rochelle? That hell hole?

"I'm being punished for not executing a man." The young musketeer pushed his hair off his face in frustration.

No one confirmed d'Artagnan's statement as it was understood. The King was fickle, easily led and offended.

Treville pushed forward with evident distaste. He had of late been often put in this position. "The King is also sending one of the Red Guards, Frite."

"This is sudden." Athos scratched his beard, but did not relax his demeanor with hand resting on his pommel.

The Captain frowned, his eyes narrowed. "I believe it was at the suggestions of Rochefort."

"He _does_ have the ear of the King and Queen." Aramis sighed, finding more reason to distrust the man.

Treville studied them for a moment as if imprinting the four men together in his mind. "You leave tomorrow morning."

Porthos squeezed d'Artagnan's shoulder, the leather jacket squeaked in response. "Tavern tonight."

"We will endeavor to make it a memorable evening." Aramis bowed his head slightly before pulling his friends out the door.

Athos waved off for a moment with the understanding he would follow shortly. He waited for the door to close before addressing his captain. "How long?"

"At minimum four months." Treville wiped down his mouth.

The count knew his captain, and was aware the musketeer leader had more information. "Why?"

"The Musketeers have displeased the king."

Athos needed to think of a plan to amend the situation to save the young man. "And this will please him?"

"Placate him for a time. . .If Defoix lives then there is a chance for redemption, maybe a good word for d'Artagnan-"

"But you have said. . ." If Treville's plan was based on a dying man, than there was little hope. "I will take my leave." Athos would try to infuse in d'Artagnan enough sense to live through his ordeal.

(())

They advised him over too much wine and food on what to expect, their contacts- in general with the notion to safeguard his life. The Huguenots did not fight as an army, but instead using their limited forces to strategically attack in small skirmishes that made the most impact.

As they walked back to the garrison with d'Artagnan weaving a bit, "I defended him. I would have given my life for him, and I am _punished_."

"You're the better man, lad." Porthos assured him, guiding his missteps.

When they reached the garrison, Aramis pushed d'Artagnan into his bed and slipped off his boots. The Gascon was asleep with a snort in moments.

"Where the King orders-"

Aramis let his thought drop. Athos was glad of it, as he had ordered the boy when they had rescued deFoix to go on ahead knowing he may be killed.

"He'll be back," Porthos said leaving them to find their own way back to their rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos-- kudos to you all of you for reading and your interest. The OP liked it, which is so important as I do worry when I take on a request. I have seen the 4th episode-- again warning for season 2 spoilers and speculation.

Frite was an adequate travel companion, but his purpose seemed to be more in regards to d'Artagnan than to participating in the fighting in LaRochelle.

When they arrived at LaRochelle, Frite was taken in one direction while d'Artagnan was assigned his room and given his orders in regards to patrolling immediately.

"A musketeer, well you'll be in the thick of it," said the man who introduced himself as Yount.

"Have you had many fatalities?" d'Artagnan needed to get immediately acclimated.

Yount raised his brows. "Daily. You're in La Rochelle now, not Paris. You're patrolling with me and some others."

d'Artagnan followed, but knew he had not made a good first impression. Over the next few weeks, his skills in the field proved them wrong, and he gained loyalty of the five other men he had been teamed with-Yount, Antoine, Etalon, Jemond and Gitan. Unfortunately, the young man kept receiving risky orders, most of the time they were solo missions, but those that involved his compatriots worried him.

Then he was sent to infiltrate the Huguenots. The purpose was to find and exploit their weaknesses to bring an end to the hostility. d'Artagnan was loyal to France, the Musketeers and his King, which meant he had to follow orders. Yet, among these people he saw they wanted to be a part of France, a France that accepted their religion along the side of the Pope and Catholicism. They had children, families and the wrongness became so apparent.

d'Artagnan almost wanted to be discovered, could not believe he hadn't been discovered as a spy. Luck was on his side. When he returned back to the French forces to make his report, he was honest to a degree because there was a need to protect the soldiers.

The battles were bloody especially on the front lines where d'Artagnan found himself.   The King had requested it to show them the _might of France_.

((()))

It was a weary disillusioned d'Artagnan who was told to return to Paris to report to Captain Treville after five months.

Yount wrapped his forearm, the most recent injury. "You'll be missed."

d'Artagnan gave a small grin of disbelief. "You won't miss trouble." He had tried to protect these men, thankful when he had been sent on missions by himself. They were waiting for his return each time as if he was some sort of good luck charm. d'Artagnan thought he survived to spite the King.

The orders included a request to make it back in short time with a message delivery. d'Artagnan could envision the hand of the King or Rochefort in the orders. Rumors had travelled to La Rochelle, which he would confirm when he was in Paris.

d'Artagnan pushed his horse in order to make the delivery point in Blois. The tavern where his contact was to be made was in a rundown section of the town. His entry was noticed, but he kept to himself with a glass of wine.

When the three men approached his table he tried to discourage them by ignoring them. Their leader rested his hand on the table. "You have something we want."

"Manners to start," d'Artagnan quipped.

Hands grabbed him so for a moment he did not resist. In between heartbeats he acted with a well-placed elbow, then slamming one of the attackers to the table giving him space to draw his sword to dispatch the other two. The other patrons looked ready to turn against him, but another man appeared by his side with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other.

"We are leaving."

They backed out of the tavern into the street, then a safe distance away. "You have a message for me; I believe in exchange for the one I am to give you?"

d'Artagnan raised his brow at the Spanish accent as he handed over the sealed note. The man with the scar on his cheek with a pocked faced was the description he was given.

The agent bowed. "We were to be sacrificed, my friend."

The Gascon thought the best course of action was not to confirm. "Good luck to you, Sir."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I am so thrilled with the kudos and comments. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This will 4 parts and as always with this fic- spoilers and speculation (which I agree with AZ Girl, I hope I am wrong).

When he arrived at the garrison it was with little fanfare. Jacques, the stable boy, tended to his horse with a bowed head, small smile and soft, "Hello."

Although all d'Artagnan wanted to do was to take his saddlebags to his room to rest, he climbed the stairs to make his report to Treville.

The rap on the door was answered with a curt, "Enter."

"d'Artagnan, welcome back. Please sit down for a moment." The Captain pulled a bottle and glasses from a draw and filled them with the amber port, passing one to the younger man. "Are you well?"

"I survived, much to the King and Rochefort's chagrin." The musketeer leader had once said Louis had a good heart, but d'Artagnan struggled to find evidence of that nature.

Treville did not reply out of loyalty. "The others were expecting you tomorrow. Rochefort _requested_ you pick up the message. Were there any issues?"

The younger man took a gulp of the port, enjoying its vivaciousness where for months now he did not taste or feel much. "Of course. They were dealt with." He pulled the tied up note from his doublet.

The captain finished his port. "We should deliver it to the palace in all haste, and the King will want to see the success of your time in La Rochelle."

d'Artagnan rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling the grime of his travels. "Very well."

"Aramis and Athos have duty there." Treville allowed a small grin. In studying the man, there was more of a slump of weariness about him that hadn't been there five months ago.

"What about Porthos?" There was always the three of them mentioned together.

Treville cocked his head. "Instrumental in having you returned to us." The captain put his hand up to curtail further conversation. "Later."

The opulence of the palace had d'Artagnan momentarily squinting in its brilliance. He took it all in as he walked to the throne room where the King would grant them an audience.

The Gascon bowed as Louis entered with no fanfare as this was a private meeting, the Queen following one step behind and Rochefort materializing seemingly from nowhere.

"Sire, d'Artagnan has the message." The young musketeer took the sealed note from his doublet, passed it to Treville who set it in Rochefort's waiting hands.

The King studied the younger musketeer with d'Artagnan meeting his gaze. He had _survived_. "La Rochelle has agreed with you as I thought it would. I am sure you will add your experience to the Musketeers. It is very much in need."

_Agreed with him?_ When last he saw his appearance it was road weary and unkempt, perhaps this was why Treville wanted to see the King directly instead of giving the Gascon time to wash. "I used what I learned as a Musketeer, Sire. It was that training which kept me alive." d'Artagnan gave a nod to Treville, knowing he was stirring the royal instead of placating him.

"Rochefort, is the message as expected?" The King ignored the slight.

The blonde haired man brought the note forward. "It confirms what we knew."

d'Artagnan pressed his lips together. The risk and message were not needed. Thankfully, Louis was called to deal with another affair of state and they were released.

"I must return to the garrison, but Aramis and Athos are about. Find them as they will want to see you." Treville placed his hat on as he exited the palace.

The Gascon had planned to ask another musketeer on duty, but upon seeing Constance further down the hall, changed to pursue her. "Madame Bonacieux," he called out.

Constance face showed shock, sadness then a large smile of happiness. "d'Artagnan, when did you return?"

He was unable to repress the grin and moved nearer to her than was appropriate. "Today."

There was awkwardness between them wafting in the air that unsettled Constance for a moment. "Are you well?"

In the space of the answer Madame Bonaciuex grounded herself.

"I am." d'Artagnan licked his lips. "I missed you. I thought of you. Of this moment."

Between them there was a palatable love. Constance grinned as she admitted her feelings. "I missed you." She leaned into him so her head rested against his neck. What did you see happening when we next met?"

His mouth was close to her ear. "That I would ask you-if I were no longer a soldier, would you leave Paris- come to Gascony or even the colonies with me?"

Constance pulled away. "No longer a soldier?"

"Even in La Rochelle we received the news from Paris. The influence of Rochefort over King and Queen and the plans to disband the musketeers into obscurity." The Gascon tried not to allow the bitterness to seep into the moment, but noticed Constance did not disagree. "Your silence is confirmation."

Her position with the Queen gave her independence at the cost of loyalty and political intrigue. "By staying with the Queen I can help the musketeers."

The young man bowed his head at her as he took a step back. "Your loyalty is admirable." _Well played._ "Know that that if you earn disapproval, then this can all change." He had to warn her. "I won't ask again."

"d'Artagnan-" Constance squeezed his forearm, and he schooled his features so there would be no reaction from the wounded arm.

The Gascon did not want to continue on with the loss of hope they would one day be together. He had to be left with something. "Are you practicing with blade and musket?"

She shook her head.

"Call on me or one of the others when you have time." If he could not protect her, then he needed to be assured she could protect herself. Change was coming more rapidly than either of them could imagine. "Have you seen Aramis or Athos?"

Constance smirked. "He may be with Marguerite and the Dauphin."

Musketeers were not allowed within the private quarters, but he could escort Constance until she entered that area. The door opened to allow Madame Bonacieux to enter, d'Artagnan was able to spy Aramis, cradling the royal baby in his arms while talking to the governess. "Tell Aramis I am at the stables." He made a brusque departure so he was no longer a witness. _Aramis was holding the Dauphin in the Queen's private quarters_. Madness.

While making his way to the stables he walked the garden. It was a circuitous route, but he hoped he would see Athos, and remove the images of Aramis from his mind. A rustling caught his attention, he heard murmurings. Believing there was an intruder, he neared a hedge and parted it slightly to see Milady in the arms of her true husband. Startled, he backed away soundlessly to continue on to the stables. He grabbed a brush to tend to his horse to wait for his friends to find him while he tried to control the turmoil. Madness indeed.

(())

"My God, it worked." Aramis greeted the younger man with enthusiasm as he hugged his missing brother.

"It worked?"

"We'll explain later." Aramis waved away d'Artagnan's puzzlement. "Porthos deserves the credit." The sharpshooter frowned at the appearance of the young man. "Did Treville not give you a moment?" d'Artagnan's hair had grown long enough that it was tied back, giving him more a hawkish look, dangerous, and his doublet and breeches were well worn. He was reminded of Marsac when they were young, before Savoy.

d'Artagnan shook his head. "There was a message to be delivered."

"Has Athos been told?" They had come to the palace together. Once free of their duty he had remained within the palace, the comte's horse was still in the stable.

"I tried to find him-"

Athos stepped into the stables with a small smile. "But he has found you. You returned."

d'Artagnan returned the forearm grip. "I have."

"Good." Athos pulled him forward to pat the younger man on the shoulder. "Good."

They returned to the infirmary where Porthos's leg was propped on a pillow as he leaned against the wall reading in bed. "You, my friend, owe me ten sous."

Aramis laughed. "Gladly." When Porthos had suggested the idea, both he and Athos had quickly dismissed it. Yet, he had convinced them of the potential.

"Are you well?"

Porthos gestured for d'Artagnan to come closer. "Good to see you, lad. This is nothing." To illustrate the larger man moved to put his foot down. "A sprain."

"But the King believes he has broken his leg _defending_ the King's honor and therefore another _experienced_ musketeer, a champion, was needed."

Porthos agreed with Aramis, standing easily as if to prove his point. "Are we to go for a meal? I've rested enough today, and tomorrow I need to return to my search."

"Search?" d'Artagnan looked toward the two other men.

"For my father."

The Gascon looked pleased for his friend probably recalling his father. "He's alive? That's amazing-"

Aramis worried about what Porthos would discover. "Yes, but first your ruse, it is all very clandestine."

d'Artagnan did not seemed convinced, looked to Athos to clarify. "What if the King discovers the deception?"

"As long as Porthos stays away from the palace, then all is well," Athos confirmed.

Aramis wanted to maintain the good humor for as long as possible. "A good meal, some wine and ale to celebrate."

There had been no festiveness in a long time- too many unsatisfying missions and secrets amongst them. With d'Artagnan came some hope.

Picking a place with good wine and food was a reminder of better times. As they ate, d'Artagnan seemed to lose the melancholy, enjoying the meal. When wine was needed the young musketeer stood for his turn to pay for a bottle, but Aramis would have none of that and grabbed the boy's forearm to stop him.

The wince brought silence to the table.

"Are you injured?" Aramis asked as he tried to get access to the wound while Porthos forced the boy to sit.

d'Artagnan tried to wrestle his arm away. "Just a scratch."

Athos stood. "Perhaps we can retire to my rooms. I am willing to share my wine."

Porthos laughed. " _This_ is truly a special occasion."

It was easy to see what the others were creating an excuse. d'Artagnan huffed, but allowed himself to be led out of the tavern into the Paris street a short walk to Athos's place.

Aramis was quick to manhandle the younger musketeer into a chair.

d'Artagnan batted him away. "At least give me a bottle before I remove my doublet."

Athos, as promised passed a bottle to his protégé while Aramis helped remove the doublet.

"This is what you consider a scratch? It wasn't even tended."

d'Artagnan sighed, giving an unconcerned glance to the wound. "There was no time. I was asked to return to Paris."

"You should take better care of yourself, boy." Athos nodded to Porthos who handed over a bottle of spirits to the medic to use on the injury.

Aramis was not expecting d'Artagnan to pull his arm away. "I'm not a boy or lad. I think I've earned that."

"Agreed, but whelp or pup remains." Porthos pushed the young man's hand towards Aramis to continue his ministrations. "You missed us."

d'Artagnan's snort was his only answer.

Once the wound was cleaned, more wine was drunk, d'Artagnan fell into a stupor. The young man was guided to Athos's bed.

"He's asleep," Aramis announced as he stretched to rouse himself a bit.

"I see. In my bed." Athos pulled a blanket from the bed to place it on the floor.

"We will leave. I need to help Porthos limp back to the garrison."

Porthos had also enjoyed the wine. "I got the boy back," he said with a lazy grin.

"Yes, my friend, you did," Aramis agreed, leading Porthos out the door with the knowledge that for the first time in months they were in Paris together.

(())


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AZ Girl wanted more anger so I worked some thoughts in. Again I am in awe with the comments and kudos. It is never expected and so the surprise is a confidence builder. Thank you again!

Athos woke with the taste of wine burning in his throat as he emerged from his cocoon of blankets he had placed on the rug of his floor. It took him a moment to realize why he was on the floor instead of on his bed. In a less than graceful move, Athos made it to standing.

"You're awake."

"More or less." Athos sat down on a chair. His washing could wait a moment.

d'Artagnan pushed off the blanket, studied his clean bandage before shifting to place his feet on the floor. "You're with her, aren't you?"

"Who?" Athos stilled.

"Milady. The bed reeks of jasmine." d'Artagnan gave a disgusted look to the bed.

Athos did not reply. What could he say that would not reveal his utter weakness?

The younger man pushed off the bed. "I want Constance, and I will only be able to get what she gives me."

"Yes." _Another person who understood_. "Our own hubris leads us to believe we can control something that will destroy us."

"We control nothing, but I expected more from you, Aramis and Porthos." Finding his doublet set on the chair, the Gascon slipped on the leather making quick work of the laces as his anger increased. "It all changed. What is Aramis doing with the Dauphin? You and Milady, who is the king's mistress? Porthos seeking his father? What is becoming of the Musketeers? I was ordered away to return to find brothers lack of commitment."

It was too early for this confrontation. "We've been occupied." Athos moved his foot to push out the chair.

d'Artagnan collapsed into the seat with a huff. "What is my place in this? Give it all up?"

"To serve." It was what Athos reminded himself when he wanted to leave Paris to hide away from Anne. "We will all serve as we promised."

Some stray hair settled on the young man's forehead, the locks having escaped while d'Artagnan slept. "I'm finding that difficult with what I know."

Time away from the garrison had given d'Artagnan shrewdness. "Do you want to discuss this with the others?"

(())

Porthos sat at the table outside with Aramis and elbowed the sharpshooter when he saw their two other brothers come through the gates of the garrison. "Don't feel right, but makes me think it will get better."

The large man knew Aramis understood the undercurrents of unsettlement were running through all of them. For him, it was the needs to find his roots that left him unfinished. Athos and Aramis also had their own issues which they did not speak of, but the secrets were tiring.

Maybe with d'Artagnan present they would go back, redeem the honor of the regiment in the eyes of the King.

"No, that looks like someone with something on their mind." Aramis commented on the determined look on their youngest.

Porthos stood to get two more bowls of porridge for the other men. Serge, in his generosity, placed some rolls and a pot of honey on a plate, which he balanced on top of the porridge. He passed some bread to Aramis, gave the other two their breakfast. "I rather hear the news after we've all eaten."

Athos picked at his food, but did eat while d'Artagnan ate steadily with his head bowed, arm crowded to protect the porridge. When finished he picked at the bread, dipping it in honey. "The Huguenots want peace, but their emissaries have yet to make it to Paris."

"Did you not tell this to the King?" Athos pushed away the porridge.

d'Artagnan frowned, the omission seemed to be weighing on him. "No, I did not. There is a spy close to the King that has an interest to want France engaged with its borders."

"So an attack can come from outside its borders," Aramis added as he tipped his hat back.

"Spain." Porthod confirmed what they were all thinking, what they had surmised from their past altercations with the Spanish.

The younger musketeers nodded. "The emissaries disappear by the time they reach Orleans."

Athos stood with a glance up the stairs. "Treville must be told and go to the King for permission to investigate, but not within the ears of Rochefort or anyone."

It should have been what d'Artagnan wanted to hear, a return to the four of them on a mission, but something was amiss. "There's something more." Porthos glanced to his friends for confirmation in what they were sensing.

d'Artagnan's brown eyes shifted downward for a moment, then he lifted his eyes to meet Porthos's gaze. "I fight with you until this is no more."

"No more?"

"There is talk about the King's displeasure with the musketeers. And you all seem . . .distracted." d'Artagnan shifted in his seat. "I returned, but it seems I have lost much."

Porthos studied the young man and how he had matured. "We're right here. We got you back with us." Porthos moved his hand to the back of his neck. "Maybe we needed the reminder to do better."

"I remain a musketeer until the end," Athos said putting his hand in the middle of the table. Their leader gestured to Aramis and something passed between them in a matter of seconds.

"I will always be a musketeer _first_ , my friends."

Porthos felt as though it was a reaffirmation for all of them. Aramis had his affecting affairs, Athos was involved with his wife and Porthos needed a connection to his past. "I stand with my brothers."

d'Artagnan's gleam lit his eyes. "Agreed. I only hope Louis does not remove me."

Porthos placed his hand on top of Athos's as did d'Artagnan, then Aramis. "You stay with us."

The young musketeer touched his fingers to his lips. "And the _distractions_?"

"On the road to Orleans," Porthos suggested. Though Athos and Aramis squirmed they relented. They would talk.

Their pledge was supposed to be to their king, but it had changed to be about brothers who would stand together because only together could they be strong and right the wrongs committed.

It would not be an easy mission, there was no guarantee of success, but the risk was to lose the musketeers, their brotherhood and France. They had had hope.

The end.


End file.
